Nora was the first to make me believe in second chances. I lied to her because I couldn’t stand to tell her the truth, and though she didn’t respond the way that I expected her to, she saved me from myself. Everlee is the best thing that ever happened to me from the worst thing that ever happened to me, and isn’t it unbelievable that things could work out that way? My darkest hour and my saving grace were all played out on the bridge to Everly. Don’t ask me to explain it. I can’t.
But when I stood in that field beside Donovan’s mangled car, chest heaving and shirt glued to my back from sweat and horror, it struck me that maybe we get more than just a second chance. A third? A fourth? How many times forgiven? How many new beginnings? At least one more for Tiffany Barnes, because there I stood in spite of it all: whole.
I shed myself. Phone dropped, scarf that had hid what I’d done to my signature dark waves unwrapped and left to the wind. The air raked fingers through my short hair and cooled my damp skin, and I was new. Again. In my bag: $10,000, a new life, a new me. And though leaving my girl is the hardest thing I have ever done, this is her redemption, too.
I love you, sweet girl. Love deep. Work hard. Your life is just beginning. You have to be brave.
I’m trying to be.
After
* * *
“THIS IS A LITTLE MELODRAMATIC, don’t you think?” Nora held up the bottle of champagne and needled Quinn with an exasperated look. But it was halfhearted and insincere, the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, betraying how she really felt. Which was serene. Anyone could see that. It was in the casual jut of her hip, the way Ethan’s arm wrapped around her waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Walker is nothing if not melodramatic.” Quinn sighed.
“What’s melodramatic?” Everlee slipped her hand into Quinn’s and swung their arms together, pulling her in the direction of the boathouse door, where Walker had strung a black sheet across the worn boards.
“It means he likes to make a big deal out of things.”
“It means he likes to exaggerate,” Liz added.
“You like to exaggerate!” Everlee pointed at Liz, her eyes sparkling with the magic of a private joke.
“I do not.”
“Do too!”
“Do not,” Liz huffed.
“You said that my math flashcards were so boring you could die.”
Liz flapped her hands at Everlee in an attempt to hush the child.
“That bad?” Nora laughed. “I didn’t realize second grade was so strenuous.”
“It’s every night,” Liz told them. “We have to go through the stack. Every. Single. Night. And then there’s spelling words and reading—”
“Don’t forget Handwriting Without Tears!” Everlee enthused.
“How could I forget?” But even as Liz complained, she shot Everlee a playful wink.
“Good thing she’s so smart.” Quinn turned Everlee’s hand so the girl had no choice but to twirl. She pirouetted awkwardly at first, her corduroy dress and striped leggings swishing and catching as she tried to spin. But then she got the hang of it and whirled faster and faster beneath Quinn’s careful hand, a rainbow blur of giggles until she collapsed onto the bed of leaves beneath her feet. Ethan kicked more on her, burying her beneath a sort of autumn confetti. Everlee didn’t mind. She only laughed harder.
The late October sun was slanting across the water, glinting off the cold blue surface and casting diamonds across their shoulders. It was unseasonably gorgeous, the air crisp and tart, scented with wood smoke and earth. Quinn had forgotten how much she loved fall, the brisk, hopeful mornings and the long twilights that made the world seem golden. Key Lake felt like a well-worn picture book after a hot, frantic summer. It was comforting to lose herself in the quiet pages, soft from use and just a little tattered. But familiar, lovely. Home.
“Remind me what we’re waiting for, Q?” Nora dangled the bottle of champagne in front of Quinn.
“The right light.”
“The right light? Are you serious?”
“Yes.” Quinn grinned at her sister. “Sounds crazy, I know, but Walker’s a genius.”
“That’s debatable. Have you seen it?”
Quinn’s eyes flashed proud and eager. “Not yet.”
Nora sniffed. “You two are nauseating.”
“Adorable,” Ethan corrected. Deliberately changing the subject, he asked: “How’s the Pumpkin Patch these days?”
“Great.” Quinn couldn’t help the way her smile widened. The preschool director had called her a week before classes began and offered her a job. Not as a teacher’s assistant or paraprofessional, but as one of the four-year-old preschool full-time teachers. It wasn’t her degree, but she had been an education major and they were desperate. So was Quinn. What started as a temporary position and a place to hang her heart for a season had become a passion she didn’t expect. “I think I’m really getting the hang of it. Speaking of school . . .” She trailed off and arched one eyebrow at Nora.
“It’s not school. Well, not technically.” Nora sounded exasperated, but there was a spark of something fierce in her eyes. Something confident.
“It is too,” Ethan cut in. “Online courses are totally legitimate. Nora’s going to get a few core classes out of the way, transfer to a four-year college, ace the LSAT . . .”
“Please, I’m way too old for that.” She rolled her eyes, but it was all for show.
Quinn couldn’t have possibly been more pleased.
Nora and Ethan had traveled to Key Lake for the weekend partly to witness Walker’s grand unveiling, but mostly to spend time with Everlee. The child was coming around slowly, learning to trust and feel safe. She saw a counselor twice a week and attended school part-time. The rest of her days were filled with Liz’s—often harebrained—schemes. They took calligraphy classes in the basement of the library and swimming lessons at the indoor pool. Once they attended a French cooking seminar and made ratatouille for a small dinner party that consisted of Walker and Quinn. Liz even let Everlee have free rein with her oil paints and watercolors, and more than one fabric now bore the tiny swirling E that signified an original Everlee design.
Nora and Quinn were astounded to discover that their mother was the perfect place for Everlee to land—if not forever, for a season. A sweet, sunny season that could only be classified as fumbling toward happy. There were still many late-night phone calls and texts, desperate pleas for help as Liz all but sobbed into the phone. But Liz and Everlee were healing together—more than that, they seemed to be healing each other.
It was a group effort. After Donovan’s accident and Tiffany’s disappearance, Nora took a leave of absence from the Grind. She and Everlee moved in with Liz to begin the difficult process of learning to live in a new normal. It was supposed to be temporary, but something clicked between the six-year-old and her would-be stepmother. The arrangement was as miraculous as it was mysterious, and when Nora went back to Rochester, it was a relatively easy transition. But she and Ethan made the trip to Key Lake often.